


Taming the Beast

by DakotaTheWhale



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Erik - Freeform, M/M, Raoul DeChagny - Freeform, Smut, Sub!Erik, be nice, dom!Raoul, literally never written smut before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DakotaTheWhale/pseuds/DakotaTheWhale
Summary: “So yes, Erik. I hate you. But I’ll be damned if I'm not as equally attracted to you as well.”...“But I will not let you control me anymore.”A little E/R one shot inspired by the wonderful artwork of epwhales! Thank you so much to the amazing @findinghiddenisles on tumblr for beta-reading and collaborating on this!
Relationships: Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Taming the Beast

It should have been a straight-forward trial. For his crimes, Erik should have been put to death, or at least life in prison. After the Gendarmes and mob found him nearly dead below the opera house, the elusive opera ghost was quite easy to catch.

Christine practically begged him to somehow avoid the death sentence and (God knows why,) let Erik walk free. And after nearly a month of conversation, persuasion, and a summable amount of cash, Erik’s charges against the La Carlotta, The Managers, and Raoul were subsequently dropped. The one caveat of the deal was that Erik was to leave Europe in the next week, or be arrested and killed. 

Now the Vicomte Raoul DeChagny just wants to get a full night's rest which he had been craving for nearly two weeks. He laid himself into the plush pillows and soft silk blankets wishing to finally shut his eyes. Just before he fell into a lull of unconsciousness, there was a sharp click of the window lock. Almost on instinct, he bolted upwards. From his bed, it seemed the window was untouched and there wasn’t any no sign of any outside air that entered. 

He lit a gas lantern and went up to the window, double checking the lock. It was still locked and seemingly untouched. He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed his tense muscles.

“I’m glad you’re not the type of gentleman who sleeps in the nude.”

Raoul let out a yelp and turned around, now eye to eye with a tall and familiar dark figure.

“Though a shirt would still be preferred.” 

“What are you doing here?” Raoul barked, “What more do you want from me? I’ve granted you amnesty from your crimes, completely against any sound judgement, yet you still come back.”

“And this sound judgement has also not thought to alert the household of my presence either.” His words were sour and mocking in tone. He went over to the mantle and picked up a small framed picture, fiddling it with long, dexterous fingers.

Infuriated by Erik’s complete ignorance to his breaking and entering, Raoul took a brave step forward towards the ex-ghost and snatched the brass framed photo and placed it back onto the mantle. As he took the frame, his hand brushed across Erik’s hands and an icy chill creeped up his arm.

“If you have any value for your second chance at life, I suggest you leave.” Raoul warned.

Erik let out a mirthless chuckle, the sound of it reverberating inside Raoul’s skull. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Vicomte. I leave at dawn for New York.”

“But I’d hate to miss the chance to tie off some loose ends and say my goodbyes.”

Desperate for the wretched man to leave him and Christine alone, he played along. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself, you godless bastard?” 

Erik reacts to the words and Raoul, for a split second, feels bad. 

“I want to know why exactly you let me walk free.”

Raoul opens and closes his mouth, trying to search for an answer. “Because.. Because Christine said she couldn’t bear to see you in prison.”

“—Or executed.” Raoul added on hastily.

“Really? Do elaborate.” Erik mused. Raoul could understand now how Christine could be captivated by such a man. Every word he said sounded intentional and invigorating and—

“Well,” Again, he struggled to find the right words. “Well, you know how Christine is. She truly cares about you. She somehow sees something in you that I cannot comprehend.”

That was a lie. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious. Raoul knew why Christine cared so much. Erik was willing to do anything to help her succeed, he had no limits to his devotion to her. It was something that Raoul simply could not do to such a degree and he was too ashamed to admit it. He truly envied it.

“You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

“N-No, I’m—“ This time, Erik took a step forward and all of Raoul’s courage faded away. Soon, he found himself against the back wall with nowhere to go. The smell of citrus emanated off him and filled Raoul’s nostrils with its tangy scent. 

Their bodies were practically up against each other, and Raoul could feel every shift and every movement of fabric against him. Erik truly was an intimidating figure to look at. But the lithe, hypnotizing movements of his body and that intoxicating voice put together were overwhelmingly alluring to all of his senses. He couldn’t stop his own body from being captivated by the man before him. 

Erik looked down at the Vicomte and was amused by how speechless the poor fop had become. With all of his dashing good looks and his charm it’s no wonder he never had to use his words to attract anyone. He had it all: A chiseled face, a strong frame, and eyes deeper than dark chocolate. Erik wouldn’t deny the boy had beauty, but it was all for naught when compared to the cocoon of music he wrapped around Christine. 

He ran his hand down the side of Raoul’s cheek, pushing his own chest into his and closing the gap between them. To his surprise, Raoul’s face felt oddly hot against his dead hands. He placed a hand firmly against his cheek and he practically melted into his hands. 

Raoul realized what he was doing and snapped back into reality. In horror, he tried to push Erik off of him but to no avail. Erik indulged in the retaliation and snaked his other hand into the spoon of Raoul’s back. Every muscle in his body stiffened as he let out a shuddering breath. Raoul knew it wouldn’t be long before his body would betray him. 

As he was pulled towards him, Erik flinched back for a second, lightening the pressure on Raoul’s body. In their minds, they both knew what he had felt. Erik’s hand fell from his cheek, leaving an emptiness that felt colder than what his hand had actually felt like. The hand slowly traveled down his chest, his abdomen and finally hovered right near a new found hardness in his pants. His hand gently ran over the slightly bulging fabric with a movement so painfully slow it exhibited a reaction neither were expecting.

In that moment, that tender and heated moment, Raoul bucked his hips against Erik’s hand. He ripped both his hands away and started with wide eyes. Both seemed equally shocked at one another.

“I thought you hated me.” Erik said, eyes filled with a mix of surprise and betrayal. An expression Raoul has only seen once before when Christine said her tears for her Angel were now nothing but tears of hate.

Raoul’s expression hardened, yet the flush in his face still remained. “I hate you. I hate you for what you did to Christine. But one is not always in control of their body or mind. Of all people, I should suspect you know that most of all.”

“I hate what I am feeling right now.” Raoul said with a rising anger, “I hate that no matter what I think of you, I still find that I find it in my heart to pity you and to wish that maybe you could have been a better person.” 

He paused for a moment, deliberately staring straight into Erik’s eyes. “Maybe then Christine would have stayed with you.”

Erik stood in stunned silence as the Vicomte unleashed his tirade of emotions. He couldn’t fathom that this was how his rival really felt about him.

“So yes,  _ Erik. _ I hate you. But I’ll be damned if I'm not as equally attracted to you as well.”

For once, the infamous Opera Ghost was speechless. 

Raoul walked closer to the still stunned Erik and wrapped his arms around his skinny waist. Using Erik’s surprise as an opportunity, he whisked the lasso from under his coat and quickly fastened it around his neck.

“But I will not let you control me anymore.”

Keeping a firm grip on the lasso, Raoul yanked it forward and pulled Erik down to his level and into a kiss.

Erik opened his mouth to the kiss, yet his mind still reeled over the events that just occurred. Surely he didn’t care for Raoul the same way that he cared for him? Yes, the boy had his pretty looks but Erik was not one to just gorge on the physical attributes of another like a base carnal pleasure. But that was exactly what he was doing, and he couldn’t help but to embrace it and fall down the rabbit hole. 

Willingly, he let Raoul take full control of the situation and allowed himself to be pushed onto the bed. Erik stared up at him with the lasso still around his neck. 

“Take off your clothes.” Raoul ordered. Without hesitation, Erik began to disrobe himself and soon was left completely naked on the bed. He boasted an erection that exceeded Raoul’s in both size and ferocity.

Raoul tugged on the lasso, turning Erik belly down into the bed. His back was littered with old scars, some healed over with a pale brown hue. He put the lasso between his teeth as he unzipped his trousers, finally freeing his own pulsing dick.

Keeping a firm grip on the lasso in his mouth, he grabbed fistfuls of Erik’s ass, which elicited a delightful moan from the man below him. Raoul then positioned himself just outside of Erik’s welcoming entrance, teasing it with the tip of his cock. 

Slowly and deliberately, Raoul entered the man’s ass and began to slowly pump his hips back and forth. Erik’s moan upon entry was perfect in every way and only added to Raoul’s growing arousal. Erik gripped the sheet on the bed as the motions grew faster and more aggressive. He whispered out strings of colorful curses in French but also in languages Raoul could not understand. Each second felt like a minute and every nerve in both of their bodies were keenly sensitive to every touch they exchanged.

The silken fabric mingled with Erik’s deformity which added another layer of pleasure on top of what he was feeling. He felt his ears grow exceedingly hot as he began to pant from the amount of stimuli he was receiving. From the firm massaging his prostate was experiencing, to the texture of Raoul’s hands against his bare buttocks, he’d never felt so incredible in his entire life. The pleasure became too much and sperm drizzled out from his throbbing cock and pooled on the sheets as an orgasm ripples through his entire being. His pleasure stained the sheets just below him all while Raoul continued his pursuit of his own pleasure. 

As for Raoul, he’d never felt so spectacularly in control his entire life. From Phillippe’s constant control of his personal affairs to Erik’s torment in the opera house, he’d never felt like he was in charge until this moment. For once, he was in control and he held the power above a man he loved and hated so much. The thoughts of impurity barely bothered him at this point. Damn society’s standard and damn the events of the past. What mattered was right below him and he was determined to finish himself all over this wretched, beautiful man. 

With one final push, he buried himself completely into Erik completely. Raoul could have sworn he saw stars in that moment. Erik let out a loud harmonious moan before Raoul ripped himself from the man and ejaculated all over his ass and lower back. The noose fell from his mouth as he collapsed next to Erik, both of them breathing heavily and sweating bullets. The two of them laid down in the bed, still fully exposed. Not a word was spoken between them after that moment or for the rest of the night. 

By the time Raoul woke up the next morning, Erik was gone. On the pillow next to him was a small piece of parchment paper with text written in a childlike, but still legible scrawl: 

Vicomte,

I wish you the happiest of days with Miss Daae. Treat her well as you have treated me.

  * O.G



  
  


Raoul clothed himself and put the note in his breast pocket. He ordered a housemaid to bring a new pair of sheets to his quarters and a cold wash rag for a headache he pretended to have. After a while, he exited his room and continued his day as if nothing had ever happened.

When Christine came into his room later that day to fetch Raoul’s hat, she swore that the room had smelled like a familiar citrus cologne.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
